


80 In A 45

by verucasalt123



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Ficlet, Kissing, M/M, Rare Pairings, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 17:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6619228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verucasalt123/pseuds/verucasalt123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little nighttime getaway</p>
            </blockquote>





	80 In A 45

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emmatheslayer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmatheslayer/gifts).



It’s a quiet night. Quiet for Sunnydale, anyway. The nightly patrol goes forward as usual, but there’s nothing around to stake, stab, or decapitate. Everyone heads home, a little suspicious but grateful for the much-needed rest.

Except not _everyone_ goes directly back to their own homes. As the crowd all moves into different directions, Spike whispers to meet him at his place in a bit (not right away, as it would be some big thing to the rest of the group that know Oz spends time alone with Spike). 

Spike’s not known to be circumspect about sharing his sex life, but this is different somehow. Like it belongs to him and he wants to keep it for just himself. And of course, for Oz.

Oz doesn’t need to be turned on a full moon to hear or see or smell better than most humans. He ponders that - sometimes he feels like a normal human being, but he knows already that he really isn’t.

It’s a conversation he’s had with Spike - oddly enough, the catalyst to whatever this thing is that they have going on. Sharing philosophy over shots that still burn his throat but don’t get him drunk anymore, Oz had been a bit surprised at the time to hear Spike talking about what it means and how it makes him feel when someone “treats him like a man”. Not in the sense of gender but of _species_. Are they monsters? Well, yes. Spike, technically, is a soulless demon. Are they still people? They both say they are, think they are, doubt it sometimes, but believe it overall. 

Spike’s not down in the crypt when Oz arrives. He’s above the opening, standing next to a beat-up motorcycle he’s just knicked from a few blocks away. (He’s gonna put it back, okay?) 

They hit the highway right outside of town, helmetless and fearless and in total disregard of any posted speed limit signs. The farther they go, the air smells cleaner, the sky looks brighter, the more appreciation Oz feels for his heightened senses, regardless of their provenance.

It takes less than half an hour before they’re basically in the middle of nowhere. Spike’s always been a romantic, Oz has always been more of a pragmatist in matters of the heart. But kissing under the stars has never felt quite like this for either of them. Ever. With anyone. 

Oz lets go of his relentless instinct for an explanation and just gives. He can’t let himself get caught up in figuring out where the connection comes from; it takes away from the beauty of the connection’s existence. When they’re not kissing, they’re looking up at the million stars right there above them, seeming almost close enough to touch. 

They can’t touch the stars, but they can touch each other. It’s more than enough. Neither of them is foolish enough to think this is _love_ or _forever_ or anything else that fits in that neat little box. What they have is good, and it’s now, and it’s theirs. They’ll ride it and they’ll treasure it for whatever it is.


End file.
